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His guys snicker among themselves like the dumbasses they are.
I toss my t-shirt over my shoulder, remaining indifferent in the face of their stupidity. “You ever go anywhere alone? Every time I see you, you’ve got a small army with you.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And not everybody can stand on their own.”
His guys fall silent and a wave of uncertainty passes over them. They’re waiting on his reaction first before they give theirs. Just like the brainless dummies they are.
LaTessa folds his barely toned, fully tattooed arms. “I’ve got influence, mobster. That’s what that’s called.”
“LaTessa’s Italian. But I’m guessing you never made the cut. Is that it? You mad ‘cuz you couldn’t be made?”
“So it’s true what I’ve been told. You think you’re better,” he says with a laugh. It’s fake, betrayed by the tension in his jaw. “Lucius Mancino’s privileged little boy thinks he’s better than the rest of us regular criminals. Is that right?”
“Your words. Not mine.”
“You marry some rich prosecutor chick from some big family, and you think that makes you good?” he goes on.
An instant current of rage charges up inside me, though I brace against it. I keep it at bay by the skin of my teeth, pressing it down. “Don’t,” I warn in a low, dangerous tone. “Don’t fucking say her name. Don’t fucking speak of her. I’ve told you.”
I’ve killed for less. Try me.
LaTessa’s grin widens. A few of his guys chance a snicker from behind him. He stares at me like we’re two pals, and says, “You don’t like it when people disrespect your wife. I get it. I wouldn’t either if I had a wife with a fat ass like that.”
This time, the whole crew laughs.
I breathe fire, I’m so ready to erupt. The lack of emotion on my face is taken over by the quiet rage pushing its way to the surface. I’m eying LaTessa like a wolf eyes its prey before going in for the kill.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Delphine’s voice—I hear the shake of worry in it as she begs me to turn and walk away. She wouldn’t want me to fight, even if it was in defense of her.
Especially now. As I await my trial for the murder charge.
It’s enough to instill a sense of guilt inside me. To make me breathe through the rage and unclench my fists. I turn and walk away.
“What’s the matter?” LaTessa calls. “You’re not gonna defend her honor? Who knew mafiosos were such pussies?”
Keep. Walking.
It’s a thought I think over and over.
But LaTessa pushes again and again.
“So it’s true. You let her get disrespected often,” he says. “There’s rumors, you know. Rumors you let your father have her… how can I say this?Ran throughat that club of his?”
I snap in a whirlwind of fury. The steps I’ve taken away from the confrontation are no more as I stride toward LaTessa twice as fast. I come up so close, I’m bumping his chest with mine and knocking him back. His men move in, though they don’t interrupt just yet. They watch as their faithful leader falters back a step.
“You keep her name out of your mouth,” I growl. “Or I will fucking kill you. I will bash your face in on the blacktop right now and paint it with your blood.”
He backs up another step, though he’s still taunting. “Whoa, okay. Calm down, mafioso. No need for death threats. Just wanted to see if you’d crack. I guess I have my answer. Send your wife my condolences for what she’s been through. Shame she didn’t have anybody to protect her—”
I send my fist flying into his face. The punch is dead on, powerful enough that I hear the crack of his teeth knocking loose.
It’s on from there. His guys descend on me. They don’t hold back this time like before. In that split second I’m fighting three, four of them at once. I’m swinging, dodging, head butting, and swerving the best I can. Two of them crash to the ground after I land some shots.
But then I’m knocked back, almost off my feet, by a left hook that leaves my cheek throbbing.
The biggest guy in LaTessa’s crew advances on me with his fists in a proper boxer stance.
